


a touch of your love (is enough)

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 23:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21328543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Five times Julian and Logan touched, and one time they couldn't stop
Relationships: Julian Larson-Armstrong/John Logan Wright III
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	a touch of your love (is enough)

**V.**

Logan can’t look away. Julian looks better than he expected, really, and it would be almost impossible to tell the hell he’s been through if Logan didn’t know better. He looks tired, even though he’s said all he does is sleep right now, and Logan can’t help but worry.

“Stop fussing,” Julian says, and Logan hears the difference in his voice. His words a little slurred from the pain meds, and he sounds softer than usual. Younger.

“I’m not fussing.”

“You keep moving the blanket. I’m fine. It’s _ heated_, I’m warm.”

“You always complain about being cold,” Logan says, tugging at the blanket again. It’s frustrating, not quite long enough to cover Julian’s toes once it’s pulled to his chin, “I don’t want you to be cold.”

He finally gets the blanket angled on a diagonal, tucks the corner beneath Julian’s feet and wraps the rest around his torso. Julian’s arms are free, but he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, so Logan hopes that’s enough. He moves to the pillows next, lifts Julian’s head with one hand as he exchanges the flatter pillow for a fluffy one.

When he finally sits back, Julian’s almost _ smiling _. It’s the closest he’s looked to happy since their reunion, and Logan hadn’t quite realized how much he’s missed that familiar twinkle in dark eyes.

“You’re _ fussing_,” Julian says, “Worse than my mother ever did. I do have nurses for this, you know.”

“Well you also have me.”

“This isn’t your job.”

“You’re my friend. Of course it’s my job.”

Logan spots a plush throw hanging over the desk chair, and he leans over to grab it. Julian protests as Logan tosses it over his chest, but he leans into the soft fabric, rubbing his cheek against the feeling. His head tilts to the side at the movement, and the faint scar on his throat catches the light.

He doesn’t mean to reach for it. He’s caught himself staring more than once, and he knows it bothers Julian. But suddenly his fingers are brushing the soft skin, grazing over the raised skin.

Julian inhales -- a sharp, stuttered gasp.

Logan looks up.

Green meets brown, and suddenly Logan forgets how to breathe. His hand is still pressed against Julian’s skin, and Julian makes no attempt to move away. They’re both still, silent.

Julian moves first. He lowers his gaze, ducks his chin. 

Logan pulls his hand away.

“I think,” Julian says, not meeting Logan’s eyes, “I could use another blanket, actually. If you don’t mind.”

  


**IV.**

Julian’s recovery is remarkable, really. He surpasses even the most optimistic of prognoses, beats every timeline his doctors set. His physical therapists say, initially, that it might be months before he can walk normally again, even longer until he can run.

But Julian’s never accepted limitations.

It’s a little troublesome, how much he pushes himself. He does twice as many exercises as he’s assigned, pushes and pushes until he’s exhausted.

He’s gone too far again, and when Logan finds him in the gym he’s panting, gripping onto the wall for strength. He’s sweated through his shirt, and when he looks up Logan can see the frustration in his eyes.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t even do a _ mile_,” Julian gasps, “What kind of person can’t even run a _ mile _?”

“The kind of person who wasn’t even meant to be _ walking _ without a cane yet.”

“I used to be able to run, you know,” Julian’s still holding onto the wall, and his legs are trembling a little, “I know you guys don’t really think of me as athletic, sometimes. But I could run.”

“I know you could,” Logan says, patiently, “We know you’re athletic. You talk all the time about how you do your own stunts.”

Julian’s body seems to have had enough. With one violent shake, his legs give out, and Logan only barely manages to get his arms around Julian’s torso before he collapses. The force of Julian’s fall knocks Logan a little off-balance, and he winds up leaning heavily against the wall himself, Julian cradled against his chest.

For several moments, they stay where they are. Logan’s almost embarrassed to admit the jolt of fear he’d felt when Julian slipped, even though the fall likely wouldn’t have caused even a bruise. He holds his friend tight, his arms firm around Julian’s waist. Julian’s face is pressed against the crook of Logan’s neck, and one hand grips the front of Logan’s shirt. Logan can feel Julian’s breath hot against his neck, the fast pace of his pants and the shudder in his lungs.

“My hero,” Julian finally says dryly. Logan shakes off the momentary panic, helps Julian to his feet. He doesn’t let go just yet -- his hands rest tight on Julian’s hips, and Julian still has the fabric of Logan’s shirt clenched in one hand. Julian looks up, eyes wide.

His breath still ghosts across Logan’s skin, and Logan can still feel the slight unsteady shake. He can’t let go.

He doesn’t _ want _ to let go.

They stay there, pressed close, for far longer than they should. Julian’s eyes are fixed on his, and there’s an unfamiliar look in that deep sepia. His lips are parted as he breathes. Soft, plush pink, just inches from Logan’s face.

Logan lets go. Julian stumbles a little at the loss of contact, but he doesn’t fall again. He clears his throat, untangles his hand from Logan’s shirt.

“Pass me my water?”

  


**III.**

They have nightmares, still.

Both of them.

Logan’s pretty sure Julian’s are worse, of course -- he sometimes wakes up screaming bloody murder, panting and sweating and writhing in his sheets until he realizes where he is. He doesn’t really talk about them much, but judging by how jumpy he gets around fire Logan can guess what they’re about.

His are a little different. They’re always about Julian, always about Logan trying desperately to save him. Always about him _ failing _, again and again, and he’s forced to watch Julian fall in a thousand different ways. 

They’ve gotten a little better since Julian came back, thankfully. But every so often, the nightmare returns.

This one is particularly bad. He can _ see _ Julian, can see the panic in his eyes through the wall of fire. He’s so close, close enough he _ should _ be able to save him. Julian cries out, reaches forward, but Logan can’t move his hand. He’s so goddamn _ close _, and he can’t do anything. 

_ “Logan!” _ Julian shouts, his voice cracking with his desperate plea, “ _ Logan, please! _”

“_ Jules!” _ Logan shouts back, _ “Julian! _”

_ “Logan! Lo! _ Logan!!”

Logan’s shaking awake violently, and he nearly knocks his head against Julian’s as he sits straight up. He’s breathing hard, and he can feel the sweat soaking through his pajamas.

“Logan,” Julian says, softer, one hand squeezing at Logan’s shoulder, “Hey. You were shouting again. Nightmare?”

He nods, shakily, squeezes his eyes shut. But the image of Julian’s face through the flames reappears, and his eyes snap open again, seeking out the boy at his bedside. Julian looks worried, and Logan hates that he’s interrupted Julian’s sleep once again.

“Was I that loud?”

“No. I was just already awake.”

“Did you have a nightmare, too?”

“Not this time,” Julian says, “It’s just my hip bothering me again. They won’t let me take painkillers anymore, and it’s kind of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Julian smiles, softly, “You were saying my name.”

“...yeah. I figured.”

“Is it always about me?”

“Yes.”

The word comes out a little broken, a little soft, and Julian’s expression softens.

“I’m okay, you know. I made it out.”

“You almost didn’t.”

“But I _ did_.”

“But you almost _ didn’t_,” Logan repeats, the tell-tale sensation of hot tears prickling at his eyes, “You almost _ didn’t _, Julian, and I -- ”

He breaks off. Julian’s still sitting close, and Logan brings one hand to the side of his neck. It’s some measure of comfort, feeling Julian’s skin warm against his own. He spreads his fingers, and Julian’s soft hair curls around them. He leans in, until their foreheads press together. He can feel Julian’s breath like this, see every twitch of his eyelashes.

Julian stays still for a moment. Too soon, he’s pulling away, pushing himself to his feet.

“Well, I don’t think either of us are getting back to sleep tonight. I’ll go make some coffee.”

  


**II.**

The weather is getting warmer, and Julian’s getting better. He can actually make it across campus without getting winded now, has started to look a little less tired and a little bit happier. He meets with his physical therapists less, but he does more with each session.

“Carmen says we can start thinking about submitting auditions again,” Julian says over lunch one day, “I probably can’t film for another few months, but it’s coming _ soon_.”

He seems so excited about it, a wide smile spreading across his face. Logan tries not to visibly react -- he’s having a hard time bringing forth positive feelings about the concept. He doesn’t really _ want _ Julian to leave, doesn’t really think it’s a good idea for Julian to start thinking about work when he isn’t fully healed yet.

Derek clears his throat pointedly, jabs a sharp elbow into Logan’s side.

“That’s great, Jules,” he says, “Your doctors signed off on it?”

Julian shrugs, popping a french fry into his mouth, “Not officially. But they said I’m doing better than expected. We’re supposed to _ evaluate _ at my appointment next Tuesday.”

“Well if they think you’re ready. I’m sure you’re excited to get back to it.”

Julian sighs, “I’ve already taken too much time off, you know? I need it to be something big, since it’s the first one in a while. Like, something _ major_.”

“Some big, explosive return,” Logan suggests, picking at his salad, “Like a whole phoenix rising from the ashes thing.”

“Exactly,” Julian smiles. The brightness is blinding.

Logan has a hard time concentrating for the rest of the day. All he can think about is Julian _ leaving _, after all this. That they’re finally getting back to normal after all this goddamn bullshit, and now Julian’s thinking about jetting off once again.

He’s never really liked Julian leaving. It’s always felt weird, seeing Julian’s room empty. Knowing Julian isn’t nearby, that he’s off living a whole second life thousands of miles away. 

But somehow it feels even worse now. He can’t _ stand _ the idea of Julian not being here, not now. He _ needs _ him here. So goddamn badly.

He doesn’t mean for Julian to notice. He knows how much Julian loves his job, how excited he is to be told he’s close to getting back to himself. 

Of course, Julian’s always been more perceptive than Logan gives him credit for. He grabs Logan’s wrist as they head back into Stuart, pulling him still as Derek heads inside.

“You’re upset,” he says simply, and Logan sighs.

“I’m not upset. I just...I don’t know. You really _ want _ to leave? Now?”

“I didn’t even want to come back,” Julian says honestly, “Remember? You had to talk me into it.”

Logan tries not to show the hurt, “But I thought we were okay? You seem...happier.”

“I am. But I’m still _ me_, Logan. I’m not going to stop being me just because of everything that happened.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Julian doesn’t seem to have a response to that. He opens his mouth, closes it again. Then he reaches forward, takes Logan’s hand in his own and squeezes.

“I’m still here, Lo. Even if I’m not _ here_, I’m here.”

Logan squeezes back. He knows what Julian means, as senseless as it sounds. He knows, but he still doesn’t like it. He still doesn’t understand. He wants Julian _ here_, right where he is.

He doesn’t want to let go.

But he doesn’t want to hold Julian back, either. He squeezes once more, then releases Julian’s hand. 

“I’ll miss you,” he says, “That thing I said freshman year? That you always have a place here? It’s still true, okay?”

Julian smiles, “I know.”

  


**I.**

Despite Julian’s excitement, he doesn’t make another mention of leaving. Logan’s pretty sure he’s been filming auditions; he’s seen the stack of scripts on Julian’s desk, heard Julian rehearsing lines under his breath. But he doesn’t seem to have a set date for anything, hasn’t actually said anything about landing a role.

In fact, Logan’s seen him more lately than he ever has before. He isn’t sure if it’s intentional, if maybe it’s actually _ him _ that keeps making excuses for them to hang out. 

Whatever the case, it’s been _ nice _. Julian’s laughing again, and Logan’s almost forgotten how infectious the sound is. There’d been a fair amount of awkwardness between them, for a while, but it’s more or less vanished, and it feels like old times again.

Like now.

Logan knew, really, that when Julian sat down with his homework in hand he wouldn’t _ actually _ finish it. He’s asleep not ten minutes after he sits down, his neck tilting uncomfortably to one side to lilt onto Logan’s shoulder. Logan manages to maneuver him into a more comfortable position without jostling him too much -- he slips Julian’s head down onto his own thighs, cushioned by a bunched-up blanket he grabs from the arm of the sofa they’re on. Somehow, he finds a way to pull Julian’s legs up, until he’s mostly lying down across the cushions. 

He stays quiet and still himself, careful not to wake Julian. He’s been sleeping better, of course, but Logan knows he stays up too late on a regular basis, drinks way more coffee than can possibly be healthy.

(Of course, Logan drinks far too much caffeine too, but that’s beside the point.)

It’s not the first time Julian’s fallen asleep against him like this. The others all know to stay quiet, and Logan only has to glare at a handful of people over the course of Julian’s nap. Eventually, though, Logan finishes the book in his hands.

He looks down. Julian looks so _ peaceful _ like this, so calm and content. He’s always looked a little younger when he sleeps, a little more innocent. 

He looks _ beautiful_.

The thought makes Logan’s breath hitch. He knows, logically, that Julian is a beautiful man. He’s not _ blind _. But lately, it’s like he’s noticed it more. He’s never really paid attention to the way Julian’s lower lip sticks out a little further than his upper lip, the small freckle at the corner of his nose. He makes these soft, sleepy noises every so often, and something about it makes his stomach flip.

He wants to kiss him.

He wants to kiss him so, so badly.

It’s not the first time he’s thought of it. It’s been on his mind almost every day since Julian’s returned. His feelings are a _ lot _, and everything is so confusing, but he knows he wants to kiss him.

He’s staring at Julian’s lips so intently he almost misses his eyes open, jolts back to reality only when Julian’s mouth stretches into a yawn.

Julian’s eyes shine golden when he looks up, and Logan’s transfixed. 

“Hey,” Julian says, his voice a little hoarse, “What time is it?”

Logan opens his mouth to answer. But words don’t come. He’s just _ staring _ like an idiot, and he really shouldn’t be staring at Julian’s mouth again. He definitely shouldn’t be _ touching _ it, shouldn’t be brushing his index finger over Julian’s plump lower lip. 

But he is.

_ Fuck_.

He tears his hand away, moves so violently Julian’s head slides off his lap and onto the cushion. He grimaces, grabbing the back of his neck, and sits up.

“It’s dinner,” Logan says, finally answering the question, “Dinner time, I mean. I think Derek wanted to go somewhere? I’ll go check.”

He’s a fucking idiot.

  


**0.**

He’s not avoiding Julian. He’s really not.

He’s just working through some shit, and Julian makes that hard. Every time he sees him, every time he hears his laugh, Logan just gets more confused. The sound of his voice gives him butterflies, and that smile sends his heart pounding a million miles a minute.

It’s _ confusing_.

And yes, okay, maybe he’s avoiding him.

Logan’s not sure he’s ever felt this way before. Just being around Julian makes him happy, in a comfortable, _ warm _ way. He doesn’t understand it, and he can’t explain it, but all he wants is to be near him.

Except for now, when he’s avoiding him.

It’s immature, he knows, but he needs to _ think_.

He thinks, maybe, that music might help. The piano has always helped him think through things, always helped him relax enough to really concentrate. His fingers dance across the keys, playing snippets of any song that passes through his head.

He hears the door open. He knows who it is. Derek tends to leave him be when he’s like this, and the others would never walk into Logan’s room uninvited. 

The notes skip when Julian sits down, but Logan recovers well enough. He continues on, and Julian listens quietly. He doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t question. He just sits, and lets Logan finish.

“You’re being weird,” Julian says, when Logan finally pulls his hands from the keys, “We promised we wouldn’t be weird.”

“I know it won’t make any sense, but I’m being weird to keep myself _ from _being weird.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Julian doesn’t seem angry. His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. He doesn’t even sound confused. He’s just matter-of-fact, and he looks like he’s waiting for more.

“...I’m trying not to make you uncomfortable,” Logan continues.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“And I’m trying _ not _ to.”

“Could you use your grown-up words, please?”

Logan sighs, pulling a hand through his hair. He doesn’t quite know how to put this into words, doesn’t even know how to explain this to himself. 

“You’re...being around you is confusing right now.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

_ “No_,” Logan says, with more force than he means, “That’s even worse.”

Julian takes a breath, “Okay. So what do you want?”

“I...I don’t…”

“What do you _ want_, Logan?”

Logan inhales, exhales, “I want to kiss you.”

“...I thought that might be it.”

“Like, really bad,” Logan says, “I don’t really...I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want to make you leave.”

“Does it look like I’m leaving?”

“...no.”

“I won’t. Not even if you kiss me.”

“Okay,” Logan nods, his eyes fixed on the piano keys in front of him, “Good to know. Maybe I will, one day.”

“Okay. You can, one day. If you want to.”

“Okay.”

They sit there for a minute, silent. Julian’s hand comes to Logan’s thigh, and he squeezes once before he stands. He makes a move to walk away, and Logan feels a strange sense of panic. His arm darts out, and he grips Julian’s wrist tighter than he means to. Julian turns, a look of confusion in his eyes, but Logan doesn’t hesitate.

Julian’s lips feel just as soft as they look. They’re warm, and they’re sweet, and Logan never wants to pull away.

Maybe he never will.


End file.
